


Patched Up

by RadarsTeddyBear



Series: Ducktober 2018 [28]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Family, Fictober, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, blood mention, prompt: bandaging wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 09:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16447022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadarsTeddyBear/pseuds/RadarsTeddyBear
Summary: Lena tries to patch herself up after an adventure.  Donald shows her that she doesn't have to do it alone.





	Patched Up

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: ["Bandaging Wounds"](http://radarsteddybear.tumblr.com/post/169006603389/whumpreads-i-dont-draw-but-ive-been-thinking).
> 
> The author is not a medical professional and, as such, does not endorse any of the first aid techniques shown in this fic :)

The kids dragged themselves out of the car and into the Manor.  It had been a long, taxing adventure, and nobody was up for much of anything besides vegging out in front of the TV and/or falling asleep.  Except for Scrooge, of course, who was practically vibrating with excitement over his new treasure.

“Lena, wanna watch TV?  I think Dewey’s going to put on _Ottoman Empire_ ,” Webby said.

“No thanks,” Lena said.  “I’m just going to hang out for a bit in my room.”

“Ok.”

Lena headed upstairs, but instead of going to her room, she went to the bathroom.  She took out the first aid kit from under the sink and pulled out the bandaids and the antiseptic wipes.  Lena sat down on the closed toilet lid, rolled up her sleeve, and ripped open one of the wipes. She pressed it to a cut on her arm, small but deep, and hissed in pain.  She continued to dab at it, and the pain soon faded to a dull burn.

Lena heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and she held her breath.  The footsteps walked past the bathroom, and she breathed a sigh of relief.  But then, she heard a door open and close, and the footsteps started to come back.  

Lena held her breath again as they paused outside the bathroom door.  And to her dismay, the door swung open.

Donald stared at her.  “What are you doing?”

Lena looked at her arm, and then back at him.  “Nothing.”

Donald gave her a funny look and then started rummaging through the cabinet under the sink, grumbling to himself.  Lena was afraid she was in trouble. She jumped when Donald slammed the cabinet shut.

“I’ll be right back.”

Lena sat frozen in fear as Donald left the room.  Out of everyone who could have discovered that she’d been injured, he was probably the worst.  As far as she could tell, he didn’t really understand adventuring. He almost always opted to stay home, and he never seemed to be happy to see the spoils of their hunt and the cuts, bruises, rips, and tears they came back with.  He’d probably get mad at her for getting hurt, for not being careful enough, for making him change his plans around while he fixed her up instead. And for putting the kids in danger (which, yeah, this time around, she sort of had; accidentally, of course, but adults didn’t always care about that), and for being a weak link that would continue to put the kids in danger on future adventures.  Or maybe he would think that her cuts had something to do with doing magic, or with Magica. Shoot. Donald would never trust her around his family if he thought she was working with Magica.

Lena jumped again as Donald pushed the door open.  He turned on the faucet to get one of the washcloths he’d brought in wet and soapy, and then he knelt down in front of her, setting the rest of the things he’d brought on the floor.

“Let me see,” he said.

Lena held out her arm.

Donald looked at it, assessing the damage, before gently starting to clean the cut with the washcloth.  Lena bit back another hiss, looking away as tears sprang to her eyes.

After Donald was satisfied, he patted the wound dry with a towel and grabbed a tube of super glue.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Lena asked.

Donald shrugged.  “It’s always worked for me.”  He squeezed a bit of glue onto his finger.  “And Scrooge.” He held Lena’s cut closed, making her wince again, and swiped his finger across, sealing it shut.

“There,” Donald said as Lena inspected it.  “Where else?”

“What?”

“Where else were you injured?”

Lena felt her face grow red.  “Oh, no, there’s just this one.”

Donald raised an eyebrow.  Lena sighed in defeat and lifted up her shirt, revealing another cut, this one much longer but also shallower than the first.

Donald got to work, wetting a fresh washcloth and setting to cleaning the second wound.  Lena yelped when he pressed the warm cloth to her side.

“Are you ok?” Donald asked, frowning when he saw blood coming off on the cloth.

“Y-yeah,” Lena said.  She held onto the toilet lid with her free hand to keep herself still.

Donald continued to clean her wound, his frown deepening as the washcloth grew more and more stained with blood.  It didn’t look like all that much to Lena, but Donald seemed to think otherwise.

“How long has this been bleeding?” he asked.

Lena shrugged.

Donald took a piece of gauze and pressed it against the wound, waiting for the bleeding to stop.

“That must have been some adventure, huh?” Donald said after a minute or two.

Lena shrugged again.  “I guess.”

Donald blew a puff of air out of his nose and looked around the bathroom.  He lifted the gauze to check on the wound, which was still bleeding (just a little bit, though, Lena noticed, and not even out of the whole thing, just the one side), and swapped it out for a fresh piece of gauze.

“So how’d you get these?” Donald asked.

Lena tensed up.  “I, uh, I--” she stammered, and then she abruptly stood up and bolted toward the door.  “I’m fine now I gotta go--”

Donald pulled her back by the fabric of her shirt.  “Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, and Lena started shaking.  Donald pushed her back down onto the closed toilet seat and replaced the gauze on her side, much more firmly this time, and put his other hand firmly on her leg, effectively trapping her there.

“You’re not going anywhere until you’ve been patched up,” he said.  “Were you planning on telling anybody about these?”

“Um, not--I mean, I was going to, if--”

Donald looked up at her.  “Lena, keeping injuries a secret is stupid and dangerous.”

Lena nodded, her chest filling up with the same sort of guilt she felt whenever Aunt Magica used to yell at her for doing something wrong.

“You have to let someone know when you get hurt,” Donald said.  Donald checked the gauze again, and, satisfied, exchanged it one last time for a clean piece and held it to Lena’s side.  “Hold that.”

Lena did, and Donald started wrapping a bandage around her torso to hold it in place.

“If you don’t, you’ll just get hurt more,” Donald continued.  “My sister did that once. She ended up spraining her arms so badly that she had to stay home for two months.  It drove her crazy.”

Donald finished wrapping the bandage and fastened it in place.  “Promise that you’ll tell someone next time. An _adult_.  Scrooge or Mrs. Beakley or even me, if you want.”  Donald gave her a Look. “Webby alone doesn’t count.”

Lena nodded, tears welling up in her eyes again.  Aunt Magica had always yelled at her when she got hurt.  But Donald was only mad that she’d kept it to herself.

“I got too close to one of the booby traps because Huey and I were trying to get a better look,” Lena blurted out.  She pointed to her arm. “And this one, I tripped and fell on a rock because--because I wasn’t paying enough attention to where I was going.”

“Is that all?” Donald said.  “I did much worse for myself back when I was following Uncle Scrooge all over the world.”

“Wait, you used to go on these adventures?” Lena asked.

“Sure.  Hasn’t Webby told you?

“Maybe,” Lena said, shrugging.  “After a while, it all runs together, you know?”

Donald chuckled.  “Yeah, I guess it does.”  He stood up. “Did Scrooge warn you away from those booby traps?”

“No,” Lena said, then hung her head.  “But it was pretty obvious that’s what it was.  I just didn’t realize we’d tripped it.”

“Everything’s more obvious after the fact,” Donald said.  He took Lena’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Just take it easy for a few days, ok?  And if either of those cuts start hurting or bleeding, let one of us know, ok?”

Lena nodded.  “Ok.”

“Good.”  Donald gathered up the glue and the washcloths and the towels he’d brought in.  “Welp, I’ll be around if you need me.” He turned to leave.

“Thanks,” Lena said.  The word came out a little unnaturally.  It wasn’t something she’d said a whole lot back when she was still stuck with Aunt Magica, and never with any real sincerity.  

Donald smiled.  “You’re welcome, Lena.”

And Lena smiled, too.


End file.
